


In the Hall of the Shadow King

by hypertensivehitachiins



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Drunken Shenanigans, F/M, Genderbending, Love Confessions, Love Triangles, Marriage, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-12-05
Packaged: 2017-12-29 04:33:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1000948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypertensivehitachiins/pseuds/hypertensivehitachiins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kaoru is getting ready for her commitment ceremony with Hikaru when she learns there's someone else who loves her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Crash](https://archiveofourown.org/works/978747) by [hypertensivehitachiins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypertensivehitachiins/pseuds/hypertensivehitachiins). 



> This story has been absorbed into "Crash," but can certainly be read as a standalone.
> 
> For the purposes of this fic, "commitment ceremony" and "wedding" are used interchangeably; obviously, siblings cannot legally marry.

"Kaoru, can we talk?"

Kaoru was sitting at her vanity table, putting the last of her pins in place when she caught sight of Kyouya in the mirror and turned around, her veil sweeping around her torso.

"Sure. What is it, sempai?"

"Kaoru, I don't think you should marry him."

Kaoru nearly dropped the pin she was holding.

"What?"

"He's… erratic. He's not the kind of man you need."

Kaoru squinted at her friend. His lips were moving, but the meaning seeming to be coming from miles away and growing garbled in the process.

"You need someone who'll take care of you and respect you. Someone who'll make you feel safe. Someone like me."

"Like… you? Is this a joke?"

Kaoru saw the last eight years flash before her eyes, and her stomach felt like she was falling. She searched - desperately - for even a single clue that had been under her nose the whole time, but could find nothing to latch onto. Unless you counted that time -

"No joke."

"Are you drunk, sempai?"

"No. Well - I might have had a glass for courage."

Two years ago, at a particularly raucous forget-the-year party at her and her brother's condo, Kaoru had gotten so drunk on Aftershocks that she'd gotten up on a table and declared that she'd heard you should never marry the only person you've been with - and that while Hikaru had not been a virgin when they met, she HAD been. To that end, before the eyes of their whole incredulous social circle, she declared her and Hikaru on a break, seized the man closest to her - who happened to be Kyouya - and started to drag him back to her room. And when Hikaru protested she had said, "Shut up, you're coming with us," and seized him by the collar as well. Once there, she proceeded to push Kyouya on the bed and told him to take off his pants. She then commanded that Hikaru not move a step and film the whole thing on his cell phone.

Drunk though she was at the time, she remembered being very surprised. She expected the sex to be no more than exercise, but Kyouya turned out to be very much the gentleman, and - for lack of a better word - quite loving. Indeed, it had broken her heart the way he kept trying to go slow and kiss her on the mouth, even as she turned away and muttered that he leave off and fuck her into the mattress already.

She felt a quiver steal across her shoulders as she looked at the man in front of her. The fact that she could have seen someone nearly every day for years and never suspected a thing was nothing short of mental. And yet he looked back, apparently perfectly serious, his face smooth and ageless and waiting with yogic patience.

"Okay, so out of curiosity," she finally said, her voice tinged with a scoff. "Assuming - ASSUMING - I were to consider it, what would you have me do? Go out there and call it off, and then turn around and start going out with you? How's that going to look? He'll find out, you know. Or maybe I should just go out there and tell Haruhi, hey, sorry, new plan, we're doing a bridegroom switcheroo?"

"I can wait, Kaoru."

"Wait?"

"It doesn't have to be now. It can be years from now. But there's no one else in my life - and won't be."

Dear God. She looked at the floor, wringing her veil in her hands.

"It's up to you, Kaoru. But just so you know, sunk costs are best ignored when making rational decisions."


	2. Chapter 2

Kaoru ended up going out into the hall and asking to speak to Hikaru in private. When they emerged again, Hikaru looked like he'd been shot, and Kaoru looked stoic, if a little apologetic. The wedding ended up getting called off and Hikaru picked up and moved to Paris within the month, claiming that it did not matter where he lived because one could write anywhere. Two years later, Japan's most widely-circulated newspaper ran the wedding announcement of Kaoru Hitachiin, heiress to Hitachiin Designs, and Kyouya Ootori, hedge fund president. At that, point Hikaru sent Kyouya an email with a single word: "Congratulations," and the two never spoke again.

Kyouya had truly loved Kaoru ever since he first saw her bawling outside the Host Club door, and in the years that followed, he did everything he could to be a good husband. He put his research skills to work and kept meticulous, up-to-the-minute tabs of her likes and dislikes -- everything from food, to creative muses, to political views. He tried to keep her entertained -- taking her on surprise trips hiking in the Alps and parasailing in Hawaii. He also made sure she had her fill of orgasms in bed, and showered her with gifts, and left romantic notes on the fridge when he was absent. Neither of them heard from Hikaru, though in the time they were married "Kaori Suzumiya" -- the pseudonym Hikaru published under -- produced two more novels. One won the Akutagawa prize, and the one became a runaway bestseller, sparking a phenomenon dubbed "Suzu-mania."

But months and years passed, and Kaoru still grew relentlessly sadder, and after a while she had started to refuse her husband more and more -- in bed and in other places. Wherever she went, she seemed to take a dark cloud with her, and before long even Kyouya could not deny it any more.

"Are you happy, Kaoru?" he asked one day. It was a Sunday during Golden Week, and they were lunching on the terrace of their villa in Karanizawa. It was a warm day, and the sunlight was pouring in waterfalls from the rooftops.

She looked up, and it was as if she had been anticipating the question.

"I'm not UNhappy."

"But you still think about him, don't you?"

She was quiet for a few moments, looking at the meniscus of her orange juice in the heavy glass goblet.

"I'm sorry." She sighed. "You know I love you, senpai." -- she still called him senpai, though by then it had become a term of endearment. "Maybe not in the right way, but I do. And maybe in a different life -- in a life where things made more sense -- it might have worked out between us." She paused. "But you're right. I can't help but feel… connected to him. Even though he's thosands of miles away, I can feel it."

She looked like she was about to say more, so Kyouya did not interrupt.

"I'm sorry, senpai. I tried."

"I know. There's nothing to be sorry about."

She got up from her chair, and he rose to meet her. He took her in his arms, and she pressed her head against his chest.

"I suppose you can't build your happiness on the ruins of someone else's," she mused, looking into the sun glancing through the trees.

"I suppose you're right."

They were silent for a moment.

"You can have anything you like, Kaoru. I won't dispute it."

"I don't want anything. Just my company, that's all."

"It's yours."

The next day, she left, having taken nothing of what he had given her.

…

The afternoon sunlight filled every corner of the bedroom under the roof, and Hikaru had pulled the covers over his head. Still, the sun was persistent, warming every bit of the ceiling and walls until it felt like its rays had all but climbed into bed with him. He moaned and rolled over, pulling the pillow over his head for good measure, but it was of no avail. The doorbell went off in the distance, only to be abruptly cut short as the maid got the door. Hikaru sighed and tried to drop off to sleep again, but a few minutes passed and he couldn't -- so he sat up, and then the door opened with a creak.

"Hello, Hikaru."

It was her. Tall and grecian in her long white skirt and her hair in crown braids, it was definitely her, with a small travel bag standing ceremoniously beside her. He had not seen her in seven years.

Hikaru's mind ran the gamut of everything her could have said -- from an acrid, "Hello, Mrs. Ootori," to "How's the snake doing?" to, when he noticed that she wasn't wearing a ring, "Come crawling back, eh? Who says I even want you anymore?" But who was he kidding? There was nothing he could do to stay the tears in his throat but get up, put his arms around her, and whisper --

"Kaoru… My love. You've come back to me."

…

Kyouya blinked his eyes, and the contours of the room came slowly into focus. He reached across the bed to the bedside table for his glasses, and looked at the clock. The previous night had been a late one -- there was a situation at the office -- and by the time he had come home, he had had only two hours to sleep. And yet he had still woken a half an hour before his alarm -- as he always had, every day of his life, no matter how tired he was. He sat up in bed and rolled his shoulders to chase away the remnants of sleep, and squinted into the sunlight slanting through the shades. 

Dreams were a strange thing. In a dream, one could woo, marry and divorce the love of one's life in the space of two hours. 

But no matter. It was high time to get going. The wedding was only a few hours away, and he had been so busy that he had ordered their gift, but had not picked it up yet.


End file.
